Call Me When You Need Me
by An Insomniacs Rebellion
Summary: It's a desperate sort of need, that leads you through the rain to the soaked front steps of the only girl who turns your heart into love-poisoned steel. Temper the fire, baby. Prepare for war. Faberry, post high school. And there's a reason it's rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**7PM, Friday, 31 December **

"Brittany, if you don't come out of this bathroom in the next ten seconds, I'm going to break down the door and physically remove you from it."

Santana crossed her arms and stood in front of the door tapping her foot, her dark eyes shooting angry promises at the wood. Brittany's soft voice was strained.

"But San, my eyeliner doesn't want to cooperate tonight... I think it's mad at me because I've been using the brown one."

Rachel raised her eyebrow and glanced up from the magazine she was perusing at the foot of her bed. Santana's shoulders dropped and her eyes narrowed as she looked at the unrelenting door with disbelief, then closed them slowly - as if she was drawing from a slowly depleting stock pile of patience.

"TEN... NINE... EIGHT..."

The door cracked open slowly and Rachel could see Brittany peeking her face out as she whimpered to Santana.

"You know the counting game isn't fair. I always get mixed up and I can never figure out how much time I have left."

Rachel snorted and Santana shot her a look which prompted her to bury her attention in the magazine again.

Santana pushed her way into the bathroom and Rachel caught a snippet of their conversation as the door was being closed.

"Sweet heart, this is not your eyeliner. This is a pen."  
>"Oh..."<p>

Rachel closed the magazine and stood, sighing softly. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the time. It was T minus five hours until New Years. She should have known better than to offer to be the designated driver for Brittana. In terms of time and dedication, their hair and make up regimen far exceeded the grueling process professional musicians endure before a big concert.

She pocketed her phone again and made her way downstairs, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. She uncapped it and took a long, slow drink, before leaning back against the counter, allowing herself the opportunity to get lost in thought.

Several weeks ago, she made the decision to call a few of her old friends from Glee to invite them to a New Years in New York reunion. In the five years since they graduated high school, most of the once-close members had slowly lost contact. She smiled to herself as she recalled the journey through time she had made while getting back into touch with her fellow Glee-sters.

Brittany and Santana landed a gig on a Disney cruise ship, and spent quite a bit of their time completely off the country. When she was finally able to get a hold of them, Santana almost leapt at the opportunity to have her feet on solid ground and away from screaming children for a few weeks. Her voice sounded muffled, as if she was covering the mouth piece to avoid getting a heart-melting look from Brittany, and she confided in her that if she had to sing "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" _one more time_ she was going to vomit.

Artie moved to Toronto, and within a few years she was watching his name scroll across the screen underneath the word "Director" at the Sundance Film Festival. Mercedes hired a well-connected agent, and spent several months on tour as a back up singer for Beyonce before branching off to work on an album of her own. They both opted out, citing family plans. Finn took over the Hummel shop after Burt retired, and was happily serving the automobile needs of Lima customers while seeing a petite blonde who owned a book store in town.

In a strange twist of fate, Puck was arrested for breaking and entering and was ordered by the judge to either serve four years in jail, or four years in the Army. After the recruiter convinced him his ability to pick up girls would increase exponentially if he was wearing a uniform that didn't have "Ohio State Penitentiary" scrawled across the back, he shaved off the 'hawk and opted for the high and tight. She received several horribly misspelled but endearing letters while he was in basic training, and then quite a few more as well as some staticky phone calls while he was deployed to Afghanistan. He finally completed his four year enlistment several weeks ago, and was itching to get back out on the scene. He hooked back up with Finn in Lima and they both took her up on her offer, deciding to make a road trip out of it.

Mike and Tina had fallen almost completely off the radar, until she was able to finally track them down via Mrs. Chang. They were happily married, and owned a dance studio in New Jersey that was only a train ride away. Mike accepted her invitation before the line had disconnected - it sounded like he was being attacked by tiny dancing bandits.

Taking another sip of water, she thought about her own personal journey. Herself and Kurt moved to New York to chase down their dreams of spotlights and fame. For the most part, they had succeeded. After four torturous years of classes and training, auditioning and failing, taking every possible call back in an attempt to beef up their resumes, and then finally getting that one phone call that opened the door into the future for them - they made it. They were living the dream.

Only... it felt different than she imagined. She loved performing. She loved the stage - the audience, the connection she feels when she's pouring her heart out and the tears are flowing and the hands are clapping... but in the back of her mind she had this tiny voice, this nagging feeling that something was still missing. If you asked her her Junior year of high school, she would have told you without batting a single eyelash that being on stage was the only thing she needed to be the happiest person in the world. But now... _something _was holding her back from finding the true happiness she was searching for. Or should she say... some_one_.

She closed her eyes and sighed softly, resting her hands on the countertop behind her, as if to brace herself for the flood of emotions that were sure to break over her the second she thought about it. They carried her on a tidal wave of memories, into a part of her past that not only confused the hell out of her, but made her question many of the decisions she made in the ensuing years.

**Graduation Night, Senior Year, The Fabray Home**

"WHOOOOOOOOO!" Puck screamed as he was hoisted on the shoulders of several football players, pounding a fist in the air and sloshing half the contents of a suspicious looking drink onto the kitchen tile. "We're done baby!"

This was the sight that greeted Rachel as she ventured further into the Fabray home. No one had answered the door bell, and she now understands why. The place is packed with more than a hundred teenagers - a DJ and an enormous sound system were set up in the living room, and a bass line that was giving her heart palpitations shredded through the crowd of grinding graduatees. She should have been duly forewarned by the girl passed out on Quinn's porch and the guy puking all four of his high school years out into Mrs. Fabray's rose bushes.

She gingerly stepped through the crowd in an attempt to make it to Puck. He may not look entirely sober, but the big oaf was one of her best friends and he would be able to tell her how to go about having fun while maneuvering this cluster of madness, and at the same time keeping her dignity intact.

She sighed as she was yet again pushed towards the wall by a group of moshing trolls. She was beginning to heavily regret her decision to attend this fiasco. She's certain the surprise on her face was heavy when Quinn extended the offer for her to attend the graduation party, because Quinn instantly tacked on "I'm pretty much inviting the whole senior class. Don't worry, my mother won't be there. She apparently decided to let her irresponsible teenage daughter throw an irresponsible teenage party to make up for my dad kicking me out. It'll be loads of fun. I'm sure you'll have a blast."

You could cut her sarcasm with a knife. Rachel furrowed her eyebrows and watched her walk away.

She'd been dealing with her feelings for Quinn for three years now. She had zero idea what they meant, or if she was even having them, or if perhaps she was just jealous of her. At first... she thought she wanted to be Quinn. But too many things weren't adding up for her.

Jealousy didn't make her heart feel like it was going to pound out of her chest everytime they came into contact with each other. It didn't make her eyes wander towards Quinn during rehearsal. She wasn't watching her to pick up dance moves. She was just watching her dance.

And one afternoon it just struck her. Graduation was several days away, and she was laying in bed contemplating the past four years. Thinking about mistakes she'd made, things she wished she could change and do over. She thought about accomplishments that she was proud of, and the friends she had made. Or... sort of made. Her mind frustratingly turned to Quinn, as it always did when she was trying to concentrate on ANYthing else. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, thinking about the way her eyes lit up when she was singing. The way she smiled when she was genuinely happy, and not just trying to hide pain. The way her ass looked when she was...

Rachel's eyes popped open and she sat straight up, staring at the wall across from her. She realized that she wasn't thinking about Quinn's toned body because she wanted to _be_ Quinn Fabray.

She just... _wanted_ Quinn Fabray. In ways she had _never _wanted Finn Hudson.

The meltdown was epic in its proportions.

The first thing she did was call her token gay. After barreling through her hysterics, Kurt managed to glean the words "amazing eyes," "Quinn," and "lesbian" from her. He made it to her house with ambulance-like speed and spent the next five hours passing her tissues with wide eyes and soft words.

At the end of Hiroshima, he sat her down and looked into her eyes.

"Listen to me, honey. For a lot of people, admitting they have feelings for someone in that way can be very difficult. For others it can feel... freeing. But for many, it feels like your whole world has been flipped upside down and you don't even know where to stand anymore." She sniffled and nodded, listening intently. "If I were in your position, I would want to know for sure. "

She made a confused face and glanced towards her computer. "What, is there some kind of test I can take..? Fifty ways you know you're gay..?"

Kurt quickly redirected her focus back to his face. "Chica, pay attention. It's not a choice you have. It's not a phase. It's a _lifestyle_. Sure, it's about attraction. It's about what you like, what you want. But most importantly, it's about who you LOVE. Who puts a smile on your face when there's no happiness to be found. Who makes you wake up in the morning with a will that drives you to get out of bed and face the day. Who makes your mind race, your heart pound. THAT'S what this is about. And when you find that person, you have to realize that it doesn't matter what gender they are. If you let them go because of something neither of you have control over, you're setting yourself up for heartbreak for the rest of your life."

* * *

><p>Kurt's words echoed in her mind as she pressed herself up against the wall to avoid being crushed by the herd. She closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths to avoid panicking - partly from the crush of graduated student flesh, and partly from the emotions roiling through her.<p>

She inhaled deeply and got a wiff of hot, alcohol heavy breath near her face. She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the left, coming toe to toe with an _extremely_ drunk basketball player.

"Oh, God."

"Hhhaaay babeee... y-you don't haff to call me gawd, jeremy works t-tooo." He gave her a lopsided grin as he leaned against the wall heavily and tried to take her hand.

She stared at him in horror, then silently thanked God for the mutant lungs He saw fit to endow her with.

"**PUCKERMAAAAAANNNN!**"

Puck promptly fell off the couch he was trying to dance on. His head popped back up over the crowd as he searched for the sound of the ethereal voice. When his eyes finally caught sight of Rachel pinned against a wall next to a basketball player who was standing WAY too close, he cut through the party crowd like a shark through water.

Completely ignoring the inebriated athlete, he reached down and picked Rachel clean up off of her feet.

"Come on hot Jew princess, let's ditch this party! You don't wanna hook up with Jeremy anyway, I heard he's got the herp."

He quickly carried the speechless brunette out onto the mercifully empty back patio and deposited her in a lawn chair.

After reorienting herself with the direction up and fixing her fly away hair, she sighed and shook her head as she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh goodness, Puck. This is crazy. How do you manage to do this every weekend?"

He grinned at her and stood, flexing his biceps and pouting his lips.

" 'Cos the Puckzilla's got Puckskillas!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bottle of beer, tipping it back and finishing it off. She blinked and watched him with mild disgust. He chucked it deep into the massive property behind the Fabray home and turned back to her.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer and get you some water. You gonna be alright here for a few?"

She nodded and smiled at him gratefully. She heard a sharp burst of noise as the door back into the house opened and closed again.

She closed her eyes and sunk deeper down into the chair, putting her elbows up on the arm rests and propping her head up on her hand as she sighed.

This was crazy. Why did she even come here? Under what vague pretense did she really convince herself that it was a good idea to hop aboard the crazy train as it was crashing into the side of a mountain? Did she really think the outcome of her telling Quinn how she felt was going to end in something other than violence and religious slurs? Did she really thin-

Then... the world got very confusing, very quickly.

She was yanked out of her deep thoughts by the landing of a person's body square in her lap. A giggling person, with no shoes on and short, choppy blonde hair. She froze completely and tried to process what was occuring.

Said giggling person proceeded to curl up into a ball in her lap and rest her head on the brunette's shoulder, one arm tightly cradling a bottle of Grey Goose while the other reached up to wrap itself around Rachel's neck. The person interrupted the giggling session to murmur sleepily into Rachel's ear.

"Rupaul, baby... 'chu doin on my patio pretenin' to be lawn furnture... Yer hair smells good."

And with that lovely anecdote, Quinn unceremoniously passed out.

On Rachel.

Whose heart was pounding so fast, she considered following suit.

What the HELL just happened?

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So here we go! A real chapter that sort of looks like the beginning of something and not just a disjointed scene in the middle of something. I put the song lyrics up as the introduction to replace the previous post, but not to worry! It will reappear in the future. It will more than likely be somewhat different as well, so you're not spoiled on it.<br>Anyway, please leave me feedback!  
>Also, I love writing drunk people. So fun.<p>

~An Insomniac


	2. Chapter 2

Okay.

Situation assessment.

Location: The Fabray's patio.

Temperature: On fire.

Time: Stopped completely.

Physical issues: Sweating palms; racing heart beat.

Mental issues: Brain scrambled; uytrfdcvbjklhgfytuj.

It usually amused Rachel how her mind militarized itself when she was caught in stressful situations.

Right now?

Not so much.

She glanced down nervously at the sleeping girl on her lap. Quinn was sporting a crooked half smile, and Rachel could feel her soft breath skittering across her neck. Her short hair was gently cupping her face, and her fingers had managed to find their way under the collar of Rachel's sweater and were resting at the base of her neck.

Inhaling a troubled breath, Rachel found her body slowly untensing. She furrowed her brow and watched Quinn sleep peacefully on her shoulder. For a moment, she allowed herself to be carried away to a world where this could happen when both parties were conscious and completely aware of each other as animate objects. She pictured tiny white lights hanging from the trees surrounding them, a half empty bottle of wine, and soft music filtering-

"FROM THE WINDOOOOOOOOOWWWWSSSSS..." Her head shot up as the music once more blared from the opening door and was silenced again.

Nope.

Still at this god awful party.

In this horribly messy situation. All of her nerves and tension returned as she braced for Puck's reaction.

For a few seconds, he was completely involved in attempting to remove the twist off cap of his beer with one hand. So intent was he, in fact, that he reached out to hand Rachel her cup of water without actually looking at her.

After a moment of it hovering in thin air, he finally glanced at her with glazed eyes. Then double took.

His jaw dropped and his beer hand stilled, but the cup continued to hover.

"Uuuuuh... Berry, don't freak out. But there's a Fabray on you."

Rachel stared him down with a look that was so far beyond deer-in-the-headlights that it evolved into deer-gonna-get-run-over-by-the-OHDAMN.

"I... I... I..."

Puck's eyebrows notched higher with every vowel.

"What the hell happened Rach? I leave for a half a minute and suddenly you're Quinn's new body pillow?"

Puck's eyes darted into space as the thought sunk in.

"Actually, that's totally hot..."

"PUCKERMAN." Rachel hissed. He snapped back to. "You have to help me. She's completely out. I've tried shaking her and calling her name, but this bottle she's carrying is three quarters empty and I'm pretty sure she's the only one that's been drinking out of it."

"And how do you know that?"

"Her lip gloss is all over the top of it Puck." She frowned and looked down at it. "It's also on the bottom, which is extremely curious. But regardless! You have to help me! I'm trapped!"

He sighed and put down the cup of water, once more returning his beer to his back pocket.

"Alright, let's get her up to her bedroom."

He reached down and gently removed the bottle of alcohol, then slid one of his arms under her knees, wrapping the other around her back and attempting to stand. Quinn's hand caught the back of Rachel's sweater, and she was subsequently brought to her feet as well. The two of them stood there awkwardly with Quinn slung between them.

"Okay, well. You take her upstairs, I'm just gonna slide right on out of here..."

Rachel began to shuffle slowly to the side. "Right... just gonna... just gonna move right on over- KAY." Quinn's fingers suddenly became an ugly-sweater gripping vise as she pulled Rachel closer, refusing to let her go, "Guess we're ALL gonna go upstairs then! Yep! Let's go upstairs Puck!" She laughed with a hint of mania and glared at him. "Chop chop!"

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, stepping towards the door. Rachel awkwardly followed suit, with Quinn acting like a skin-covered slinky between the two of them.

After a few seconds of this business, Puck sighed.

"You get on that damn fake-walking machine thing every morning, just take her. I'm going to have to clear the way through the party to the stairs anyway."

"Wait! I don't think I can-" Rachel's eyes widened as he shifted Quinn's weight into her arms. The panic eyes returned.

Dear God.

Rachel followed him on shaking legs, and Puck opened the door. He stepped over to the DJ and pulled the plug connecting his set to the outlet. A chorus of boos sounded from the party until Puck turned around and glared at them. Then, the silence was church-like.

"Alright people, party's over! Congrats on graduating, now get the hell out!"

They all began shuffling and stumbling to the exits slowly. Puck shook his head.

"I mean it, losers! You're gone in five seconds, cos you're dead in six!"

The scramble would have been much more funny if Rachel didn't feel like she was going to have a heart attack.

She stood her lone vigil in a corner, everyone far more concerned with finding an exit than a girl holding up another girl. Quinn, on the other hand, was beginning to stir from all the yelling.

"Brrmm?" She lifted her head a few inches and looked around at the mayhem. Rachel raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

"Oh, good! You're awake. I'm going to put you down now so you can go to your-"

Quinn's head dropped heavily back onto Rachel's shoulder, and she giggled softly.

"Mmm, I feel like I'm floating..."

"W-well, you technically are, but really you're just-"

"You smell good..." She pressed her lips softly to Rachel's throat. "Taste good too..."

The brunette almost dropped her blonde burden.

It felt like chills moving down her spine, but for some reason they were lighting her on fire.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus...

Rachel wondered if this is what a stroke feels like.

* * *

><p>*snap, snap, snap*<p>

"Yo, Jew babe. Anybody home? Hello?"

Puckerman waved his hand in front of Rachel's face for several seconds before she was finally able to blink and unglue her gaze from the spot on the wall she'd been burning a hole into.

"Finally." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Party's cleared. Let's go."

She nodded stiffly and followed him, because she had zero clue where the stairs were located, much less Quinn's room. They crossed through the kitchen and living room before finally arriving at the staircase.

As it appeared, not everyone had left yet. Brittany and Santana were making their way down the stairs, Santana being propped up by her sweet girlfriend.

"Rrrrrrrrrred solo cup! IIIIIIIIIII fill you up! Let's have a ppaaarrttaaayyy!" Santana's words were basically sloshing out of her mouth.

"Haaay, Britt. Look! Q! And Berry! B! Hahahahaaa... QB! Like F-Finn! Where's... IS Finn? He's so tall, can't bleeve we lost him..."

Brittany smiled at them as she gently guided the drunk latina down the stairs and towards the door.

"Thanks for the party, Quinn! Though... this doesn't seem like a very fun party, if we're the only people here... funny... I swear there were more here before... And look at this MESS, did we make this mess? Oooh wait! Maybe it was the garden gnomes again... "

The blonde trailed off as the door closed behind her gently. Rachel glanced up at Puck.

"Sometimes I wonder which of them is more capable of driving home."

He grinned at her and led the way up the stairs to Quinn's room. He tried to click on the light, but it appeared that several explorative party-goers had broken the lamp.

"Well, the bed's over there in that corner. It's the size of China, you can't miss it. Just make sure you put her on her side so she doesn't choke on her own vomit and die like Hendrix. I'ma go downstairs, because I actually DON'T remember where I left Finn. Last time I found him trying to sleep in a laundry basket."

"Wait, you're leaving? But how am I supposed to-" She turned around and he was already gone. She sighed and tried to walk steadily to the bed, gently placing Quinn on the soft covers and sliding her arms out from underneath her.

"Okay," she whispered to herself softly,"let's try this again..."

She reached back for Quinn's hands and felt them mercifully loose on her sweater collar.

"Oh, thank God." She divested it of them and lowered them to the sleeping girl's bed.

She looked down at her one more time and couldn't resist the urge to gently brush the blonde locks off of Quinn's forehead. She smiled and made to turn away, when a soft hand caught her own.

"Stay."

She looked down. "Quinn?"

Quinn's eyes cracked open slightly and she looked up at the brunette.

"Berry..?"

"Yeah, it's me. I was just... coming to check on you."

"Oh..."

Rachel turned away again, and once more the hand tightened.

"... stay."

She was stunned. Did Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader extraordinaire, just ask her to stay here with her? In her house? In her room?

... In her bed?

Not a chance.

"Quinn, it's Rachel. _Rachel._ Remember, from Glee club?" She looked down at the drunk girl who was returning the gaze, blinking slowly.

"I know who you are, Rachel." Her words were slurred, but not whispered. "Now get'n the damn bed."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Sorry this is so short guys, but it's what I have for right now! It didn't make sense for me to sit on it while waiting for an epiphany that will lead to more story. I also apologize in advance for any spellinggrammatical errors. I'm quite tired and on my way to being sick. If you notice anything, please bring it to my attention and I promise I will fix it as soon as possible. You've all been so kind to me these past few days. Enjoy!

~An Insomniac


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn opened her eyes slowly. A sharp light pierced through her skull, triggering an intense pounding in her forehead. She groaned softly and shut them again tightly, trying to force her brain to work through the fuzzy memories.

What the hell happened last night?

She remembered the beginning... the crowds of students slowly filtering in through the front door, the DJ setting up shop, the boys arriving with a keg... Blur.

She remembered someone bringing a bottle of Grey Goose and immediately snatching it up, not even bothering with a cup. It was her graduation party, right? She was allowed to have fun. She made it through four years of pretending to be someone she wasn't. Waking up every morning and playing the part she had no choice about being cast into.

She made it through a pregnancy. She made it through being disowned by her father, her own flesh and blood. And then basically did the same thing to her own daughter, except sweet little Beth hadn't done a damn thing wrong.

Did she feel pressed into the earth by guilt? Yeah.

Was she going to do her damndest to drink it all away? Hell yeah.

She remembered dancing through a throng of people... She remembered making out with that idiot from the soccer team, because he had nice hands. She remembered slapping him because his nice hands travelled way too far south of her shoulderblades.

Blur.

She drank half of the bottle in minutes. Too fast.

After that, everything was in pieces. A couch. Laughter. Bright lights, spilled beer. The feeling of pure suffocation.

Stumbling outside and sucking in deep breaths of air.

Falling off the patio onto the soft grass, and wandering through the trees. Screaming, feeling so completely alone because she knew no one was there to hear her, no matter how loud she was.

She sucked down another quarter of the bottle and somehow managed to make her way back to the patio. It hit her hard, and everything after that was just gone. Someone must have brought her upstairs to her bed.

And... she remembered having a very intense dream that involved Rachel. Try as hard as her aching head would let her, she couldn't recall details. Just that it made her feel... safe.

Like it always does.

She shook her head and tried to open her eyes again. The sharp light was the sun streaming through her blinds, and it wasn't in the mood to be merciful to her.

She whimpered and rolled over onto her side, hiding her face in her soft, warm pillow.

Soft, warm...

... Warm?

She reached up tentatively and laid her palm on her "pillow," feeling down slowly to what was most assuredly an ass. Granted, it felt like a _really nice_ ass...

_Damn._

'Please, please don't tell me I hooked up with someone last night...' she thought to herself.

She peeked open one eye and her vision was filled with a sea of...

Pink sweater?

What the hell kind of guy was this? She rolled back slowly to a position where she could prop herself up on her elbow and managed to blink open both of her eyes to half capacity.

Even when she saw the long, silky brown hair, her still semi-drunk haze prevented the revelation from hitting her fully until she realized that ugly-pink-sweater-boy had a serious rack.

She stared at it for several seconds, while her brain was attempting to process thoughts at a thousand miles an hour. Kind of like drunk driving for the mind.

'Oh, wow Quinn. This is a WHOLE new level of too much party.'

While she was in the middle of mentally berating herself, her new pillow-with-boobies began to stir. Quinn quickly tried to refocus her thoughts so she could prepare herself with an adequately scathing and terror-inducing remark, so her drunken hook up would forever shake at the letter Q and therefore be completely unable to relay this moment to anyone else. Ever.

The girl stretched slowly and made a soft noise. Quinn inhaled deeply to steady herself before she threatened her life.

Her brow furrowed. She inhaled again deeply.

She knew that lavender perfume... She'd smelled it a hundred times before...

Quinn and Rachel both sat up at the same time, as if they were in slow motion. Neither seemed prepared to believe the situation was real.

When she came to the realization that she wasn't going to wake up from this dream, her heart began to feel like it was going to explode out of her chest.

"Oh... my God."

* * *

><p>Rachel saw the freak out building in the blonde's eyes way before the screaming began. Her attempt to calm the raging storm while the clouds were forming was in vain.<p>

"Quinn, wait. I can explain."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

She scrambled backwards, nearly falling off the bed before getting her footing on the floor. The moment the blonde rose and the blood rushed to her head, she doubled up again, holding her face in her hands.

"SHIT."

Rachel scooted forward and gently placed her hand on Quinn's back.

"Are you alright?" Quinn immediately jerked away from her and stood again, slower this time. She winced and clenched her fists, her breathing labored.

"What... are you _doing_ here?"

Rachel frowned and looked up at her. Quinn's rage was confusing. Rachel knew they weren't exactly friends, but after four years she at least didn't treat the brunette like pond scum anymore.

"Why are you so angry?"

For a split second, Rachel swore she saw Quinn's anger falter. The mask shimmered, and behind it she saw fear. Then it hardened again, as if nothing had happened.

"Because I'd like to understand why you're _in my bed_." Quinn ground out.

Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Because you asked me to stay with you last night."

Quinn froze.

"... what did you just say to me?" she whispered softly.

Rachel stood and looked her in the eyes.

"I said, you ASKED me to stay with you."

"That's... that's impossible..."

Rachel shook her head.

The silence that filled the room was like a blanket. It was heavy, and thick. Quinn's chest was rising and falling quickly, her eyes moving back and forth between Rachel's.

"I... You..."

And just like that, the change was sudden. Quinn squared off her shoulders and raised her chin, her eyebrow lifting with contempt.

"Get out."

The tears sprang to Rachel's eyes almost instantly. She blinked hard and looked away, determined not to let them anywhere near gravity's humiliating grasp. She took a deep breath and made her best effort at not letting her voice shake. She only half succeeded.

"Do you have... any idea... What the hell happened last night, Quinn?"

The blonde crossed her arms and glared at her.

"I don't know what you THINK happened last night Rachel, but I can assure you-"

Rachel took an angry step towards her.

"You can _assure me_? Of what, exactly, Quinn? Because I'm pretty sure you were so blindingly drunk that you passed out in my lap on the patio. I'm pretty sure that you _refused_ to let me go when Puck tried to carry you to your bedroom. And in fact, I'm one _hundred_ percent sure that _I _carried you up here, and that when I turned to leave you asked me to stay."

Quinn was near hyperventilation now, and her eyes flared up with anger. And... there it was. That fear again.

"I said GET OUT, Berry! You have no idea what you're talking about!"

As Rachel stared her down, the pain must have been evident on her face. It was enough to make Quinn uncross her arms and look away.

In true Rachel fashion, she turned on her heel and fled the room.

By the time she made it past the front door and down the lawn to her car, the tears were flowing freely.

* * *

><p>Quinn sank deeper into her steaming bath water. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the folded towel behind her.<p>

Her mind kept replaying the events of this morning.

She may have put up a brave face, and stubbornly threw the girl out of her home, but... She knew in her heart that she'd been telling the truth.

But it didn't matter. Whether she'd asked Rachel to stay or not, it wasn't going to change how she felt.

She doesn't know when it happened exactly, but somewhere along the road she'd lost her way. She felt like she was living on the very edge of her mind, teetering precariously on the brink of losing it.

She'd had it all. She was it. She was either the girl everyone wanted to be, or the girl everyone wanted to be with. She had represented power, innocence, intelligence. She got what she wanted, and she got it when she wanted it.

Damn, she had been miserable.

It felt like every day was a constant struggle. Sometimes, she would pass by a reflective surface and not even realize it was her own face looking back. You can change the outside, but the girl inside will always be clawing at the surface, trying desperately to be freed from the restraints of shallow thinking and materialism.

And one day, it all came crashing down around her. She lost everything. Suddenly she was a pariah. She was no longer respected, not loved, not even feared. All of the work she put in, all of the time and effort she sacrificed to be perfect was laid to waste because of one mistake.

Even then, she still tampered down the feelings inside. The ones that made her lock herself in the bathroom and shake, because what the hell was she doing? Is she losing her mind? Who the hell is she anymore?

She destroyed Lucy.

Society destroyed everything else.

So what the hell did she have left?

In silence, she suffered through the agonizing questions, with no one to turn to and no one who cared. Until she found that amazing band of gleeful misfits.

And all at once, here was a dozen people who UNDERSTOOD. Who didn't actually care what she looked like, who didn't care what her grades were or if she made a mistake. They didn't care that she looked like a blimp when she was pregnant, they didn't care if she cried during class. They didn't care if her clothes cost five dollars or five hundred dollars.

They saw past all of the bullshit, into what was still pure, and clean, and kind.

They brought it out of her in volumes she didn't think she even possessed anymore.

She finally felt... _right_. Whole again.

Which is why, no matter how often she watched her sing those ballads and that... that comfortable hand closed around her heart and began to squeeze, just to keep the blood pumping...

No matter how often she felt as if she was sinking back down deeper into the quicksand, she wrapped her arms around herself and went to a place that smelled of lavender and tied her fraying nerves...

No matter how often her stomach flipped when soft brown eyes met hers and smiled at her, and it made her feel warm, like everything was going to be okay...

... she couldn't let it all get destroyed.

And it would.

It always does.

Love is messy. It can be brutal, dishonest, and ugly. It can tear you apart.

If she allowed herself to truly feel the nagging sensations in her heart, to open herself up to them and allow them entrance, it would only ever turn out horribly in the end.

It's not as if it can be localized to two people, either. Everyone becomes involved. Friends take sides. Relationships fall apart. Ties are forever broken, and hearts are forever jaded.

Then everything wonderful she had found would be gone, and she'd be out on her own. Again.

There was no way she could handle that a second time.

Which is why she never let anyone see the sadness in her face when she tore down that beautiful creature with hateful words and angry comments. She concealed her sharp irritation when others followed suit. And she _never_ revealed her desperate wish to throw herself into Rachel's arms and never let go.

She pulled the plug on her bath water and stood, wrapping herself in a towel and stepping out of the tub gingerly.

She paused on her way out the door and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

For four years, she pretended she was a blonde beauty queen with her whole life ahead of her. If she can do that, she can hide her feelings.

She was only just beginning to find herself.

She can't stop now.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So here was some of Quinn's POV, the morning after. I promise things will start to pick up soon. I just need to build the foundation first. Once I get my mind wrapped around something, I need to lay it down before I can move on to the next thing. Thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing, it's very encouraging. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. =)<p>

~An Insomniac


	4. Chapter 4

**PLEASE READ FIRST:**

Author's Note: Two important things. One) This chapter is as short as it is critical. It's the end of our journey into the past. Two) This chapter contains another Florence + the Machine song, Never Let Me Go. I highly, _highly_ suggest you try to listen to it while reading this. If you can't download it, throw it up on youtube. It's one of my favorite songs and I really want you to experience the emotions I felt while writing this. I sincerely hope I was able to get it across the way I intended it. I would **really** love some feedback on this chapter, so if you get a moment, please let me know what you think.

* * *

><p>"Looking out from underneath,<br>Fractured moonlight on the sea  
>Reflections still look the same to me,<br>As before I went under..."

Rachel pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she walked slowly through the park. The night was old, and the moonlight turned the green world grey. She sang softly as she walked, her breath forming a mist in the unseasonably cold weather. _  
><em>The park was thankfully empty. She knew from a glance at her reflection before leaving the house that her eyes were rimmed with red.

She stopped in front of the small lake in the center of the park, and stared out at the rippling water.

* * *

><p>Quinn inhaled the night air deeply. She'd never loved anything more when she was a child than when her father took her to the park. Now she came at night, even after her life's recent trials, because it was still the one place she could find peace and solitude. It was too difficult to come during the day now... Seeing the small children playing with their parents made her heart break.<p>

She sat on the park bench and bent down to remove her shoes. She left them on the bench and stepped onto the cool grass, her skirt billowing around her knees. She moved her toes around slowly, walking towards the lake, whispering softly as she went.

"And it's peaceful in the deep,  
>Cathedral where you cannot breathe,<br>No need to pray, no need to speak  
>Now I am under, oh..."<p>

* * *

><p>Rachel clenched her fists and lifted her face towards the stars, tilting her head back and letting the tears fall freely as she opened her lungs and sang towards the heavens.<p>

"And it's breaking over me,  
>A thousand miles down to the sea bed,<br>Found the place to rest my head..."

* * *

><p>"Never let me go, never let me go..."<p>

The hairs on Quinn's neck stood on end, as the ethereal voice echoed all around her. She turned her face against the wind, her feet carrying her towards the angelic sound. It was a sound she'd heard in her dreams a thousand times, one permanently tattooed on her soul. She sang louder into the gusts that whipped her hair around her face.

"And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,  
>And all this devotion was rushing out of me,<br>And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,  
>The arms of the ocean deliver me..."<p>

* * *

><p>Someone was singing with her.<p>

Rachel furrowed her brow and looked into the flurry of air that carried the voice of her duettist to her. Her coat and her hair fluttered around her as turned towards it, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no control over her body as it moved towards the breathy whisper of lyrics.

Her knees nearly gave way beneath her as she saw Quinn step through the trees and into the clearing.

She watched her move slowly forward, almost as if she was floating, like an angel...

It seemed as if the grey world shimmered silver around her. Her flowing skirt tangled around her legs, and her hair framed her face so beautifully...

* * *

><p>Quinn couldn't stop herself. The steps were involuntary and somehow mandatory.<p>

And yet... she couldn't find herself even wanting to stop.

If she gave halt to her steps now, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

She filled her lungs with air and cried softly into the night, as she finally stayed herself in front of the brunette.

"Though the pressure's hard to take,  
>It's the only way I can escape..."<p>

She reached out slowly and gently cupped the girl's face, her thumb slowly wiping a tear that was tracking down her cheek.

"It seems a heavy choice to make,  
>Now I am under..."<p>

* * *

><p>The feeling of a tender warmth encased her body, and Rachel turned her face into the soft hand. It felt so alien, so raw... but <em>god<em> did it feel so right. She pressed her lips to the skin and sang with a waivering voice.

"And it's breaking over me,  
>A thousand miles down to the sea bed,<br>Found the place to rest my head..."

Her eyes locked with Quinn's, and suddenly their pounding hearts became one beat.

_"Never let me go, never let me go  
>Never let me go, never let me go..."<em>

Quinn slid into her space, and she felt the tall girl's arm wrap around her with a quiet strength, one hand still holding her face gently. Her hands traveled up the blonde's back and down her gorgeous arms, finally coming to rest on her sides.

* * *

><p>"And it's over...<br>I'm going under..."

Their star crossed gazes remained tangled, and Quinn lowered her forehead against Rachel's.

"But I'm not giving up...  
>I'm just... Giving in."<p>

The breath stopped in Rachel's chest as their noses brushed... their lips separated by the breadth of a whisper...

"Oh... slipping underneath...  
>Oh, so cold... and so sweet..."<p>

Quinn shut her eyes tightly, her fingers threading into the silky brown hair. A tear fell slowly from her eyes, and her lips trembled with fear... and with a shaking resolve.

"In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold,  
>And all this devotion I never knew at all..."<p>

She opened her eyes again to stare deeply into Rachel's.

"And the crashes are Heaven, for a sinner released,  
>And the arms of the ocean...<br>Deliver me."

When their lips finally melded together, it was brilliant and everlasting. An eternity of time could have elapsed in the seconds of pure felicity, because the final collapse of the barrier surrounding their love created a supernova which paralyzed the rest of the living world.

Rachel was breathless and shaking in Quinn's arms, and she sank into the embrace at the exact moment the taller girl tightened her hold.

_"Never let me go, never let me go...  
>Never let me go, never let me go...<br>Deliver me..."_

This couldn't possibly be happening... It was as if she was living inside a fever dream... Edged with a filigree of silver and covered with stars...

Her fingers folded into the front of Quinn's shirt as she held on tightly, willing it to never end.

But... even as she prayed to god her life could forever be lived in this moment... She felt Quinn falter.

The sudden loss of support dislodged her from reality, and she sank to her knees.

The slow motion footsteps of Quinn's run seemed to shake the earth itself.

Once more, Rachel lifted her tear-streaked face towards the heavens.

"And it's over...  
>And I'm goin' under..."<p>

She buried her hands in the grass and gripped it tightly, crying out hard into the land.

"But I'm not giving up!  
>I'm just... <em>giving in...<em>"

Tears tore across Rachel's face as she lowered it into her hands, and the world went black.

* * *

><p>The whole world itself streaked past Quinn, and she ran as fast and as far as her legs could carry her until she could run no further. She slammed onto her knees and sobbed, harder than she could dare to cry without it actually killing her.<p>

_"Oh... slipping underneath...  
>So cold... and so sweet..."<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: I'm not sure if very many people enjoyed reading it the last time I did this, but I've had the second scene in this chapter planned out since the very beginning. It's another scene with a song, this time Only If For a Night by Florence + the Machine. (Anyone noting a recurring theme here? lol.) If you're so inclined, I again **highly** suggest you listen to the song in conjunction with reading the scene.

I would also like to set off your redundancy alarm by saying I'm sorry again that this is such a short chapter. Writing in little bursts like this is very uncharacteristic for me, I normally like having most of the story planned out and written before publishing chapter one. I have been quite busy at work, so it's been rough to sit down and flesh out ideas, much less type them and make them sound pretty. But, since this is my pet project, I'll stick with giving it to you as I get it. So to speak. Enjoy. =)

* * *

><p>Rachel felt a tear track down her cheek, and she swiped at it with irritation. It seemed so ridiculous of her to continually allow herself to be wrapped up in mourning a connection that was over before it even began. That night in the park was the last time she'd seen Quinn Fabray. Five years later, she still saw every second of it vividly in her mind - and often, in her dreams. Everytime she awoke, her chest ached as if she'd just finished running a marathon.<p>

She sighed softly and pushed herself away from the countertop. She had one foot on the stairs back up to the second floor when she heard thumping noises, followed by soft giggling and a not so soft moan. Her eyes drifted towards the ceiling and her eyebrow quirked.

"Okaaay..."

She turned away, realizing that her chest felt too heavy to deal with happy-butterfly-rainbow-love couple right now anyway. She let her hand rest on the drawer in the kitchen, and chewed her lip while she stood there deliberating. Finally, she exhaled slowly and gave in as she opened it and reached in for a pack of cigarettes. She shuffled one out and picked up the lighter, making a beeline for the door. She shouldn't, because of the long-term effects it could have on her voice, but... it's been quite a while since she'd had one anyway.

She slipped out the front door silently and leaned against the side of her house. She put the cigarette between her lips and flicked the lighter, inhaling deeply as she held the flame to the tip. Pocketing the lighter, the mist of her breath mingled with the smoke in the streetlight as she exhaled a stream.

She wondered if Quinn would make an appearance tonight.

* * *

><p>Quinn ran her fingertips over the ink scrawled across the envelope that sat on her table in front of her. She'd done it numerous times over the past few weeks, and it was beginning to fade. She sighed softly and reached for her glass of wine, sipping at it slowly as she leaned back in her chair.<p>

When she popped open her mailbox, the last thing she was expecting to find was a letter addressed in a hauntingly familiar handwriting. It was sitting on top of several bills and a magazine, glaring at her. As if someone else had known that it was the most important piece of mail in the stack, and deserved a seat at the top of the pile.

Her hands shook as she closed the mailbox, and she stood on the sidewalk for several minutes. Her heart felt as if it was going to pound out of her chest, and she stared at the name on the top of the envelope.

Rachel Berry. _Rachel Berry._

She was finally shaken out of her reverie by a small child on a bicycle, who almost ran her over. His mother ran past her, breathlessly whispering an apology with a smile, which she couldn't find the words to return.

She slowly wandered up the path to her apartment with her eyes affixed to the paper in her hands, climbing the stairs. So much was her distraction that she nearly tripped twice. When she finally managed to fumble her key into the lock and make her way into the apartment, she realized she couldn't remember how she got there from the sidewalk.

She sank into the chair at her dining room table. With trembling fingers, she carefully peeled away the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter.

She closed her eyes and shook her head once. It even smelled like lavender.

Damn.

She opened her eyes and braced herself.

_Dear Quinn,_

_I would first like to apologize for this coming out of the blue. I realize that we haven't spoken in quite some time, and I doubt you've thought of the name Rachel Berry in years._

Quinn groaned. She'd thought of that name every day since high school graduation.

_Regardless, I'm sending this to you now because I came across the knowledge that you lived right here, in New York._

"And I'd like to know exactly how you discovered said piece of information..." Quinn mused aloud to herself.

_I have invited the members of the old McKinley High Glee club to a New York New Years Reunion, and I would be remiss if I failed to contact you. You were a member for three years, and while we all had our ups and downs, I'm sure that I'm not the only one who would enjoy seeing you again. I have attached the address to the lounge where our reunion will be held. It's a fairly short commute from you, so I hope you can find the time to come reminisce with a few old friends._

Quinn looked at the address and laughed. Only Rachel would refer to a nightclub as a "lounge."

_The party will arrive at 9pm. If you have other arrangements already made, I understand. If you don't, I look forward to seeing you there._

_Sincerely,  
>Rachel<em>

Quinn slowly folded the letter again, then frowned and looked down at the lower left corner of the blank side. A quote was written there in lettering so tiny she had to squint to look at it.

**Only if for a Night.**

An old, familiar shiver slowly ran down her spine.

Quinn exhaled in frustration and stood, stalking into her bedroom to the closet. With precise, measured movements, she yanked her shirt over her head and pulled on a long-sleeved exercise top.

How could this have happened? Why now? Like it was bad enough she had to see the brunette's name all over the newspaper and the news, now she wanted to meet in person? What then? So she could open herself up to being invited to more outings? And torture herself further with the physical presence of the one thing she desperately wanted but had no right to touch?

By the time she was done with twenty questions in her mind, Quinn had pulled on a pair of running shorts and was tying up the laces on her track shoes. She tugged a hoodie over her head and stuck ear buds in her ears, the music blaring at she bolted out of the apartment door and down the stairs.

She pounded the pavement hard as she ran through the apartment complex to the street, letting her mind race.

How the hell was she supposed to get over Rachel if she was everywhere she turned? Her face, her name, were around every corner. NYU had been the best school Quinn was accepted to. How was it her fault that it happened to be in the same state as one Rachel Berry? How was it _fair_?

She sprinted across a busy intersection, her hands balling into fists.

And how was it fair that now, after graduating at the top of her class, Quinn got a job offer to work as a profiler for one of the best police departments in the country, and it was STILL in New York?

She darted through traffic, completely oblivious to the angry and appreciative honks she was receiving.

Her angry thoughts and music kept her company as she destroyed a two mile circuit in fifteen minutes. She wound up back in front of her apartment door with her hands on her knees, panting softly. She tried to lie to herself and say that the drops dripping down her face were completely sweat, but she knew better.

Letting herself back in to her apartment, she paced in circles to cool herself off. She turned on the sink in the bathroom and let cold water fill her hands, pressing it against her face to wash off the remains of her emotional run. She looked up at herself in the mirror, and her shoulders dropped with acceptance of the true reason she was so upset, so incapable of letting go.

How do you stand toe-to-toe with someone you tormented for four years, someone whose heart you probably smashed to pieces, and say "I never meant to hurt you?"

Was it even possible?

* * *

><p><em>And I had a dream<br>About my old school..._

Quinn frowned as she slowly walked down the completely deserted hallway of McKinley. Her fingertips trailed along the lockers, as the pale light of a sunrise filtered through the doors and windows. She heard the soft sounds of distant laughter, and she looked up to see Rachel walking through the double doors. The light seemed to glow behind her, giving her almost an angelic appearance.

_She was there  
>All pink and gold and glittering...<em>

Quinn sank to her knees and held her arms out. Rachel smiled and stepped into them, running her fingers through the short blonde locks as Quinn wrapped her arms around her and pressed her face into the brunette's stomach, the material of her shirt catching the flow of tears.

_I threw my arms around her legs  
>Came to weeping...<br>Came to weeping..._

Rachel reached down and tucked her finger under Quinn's chin, tilting her face up and smiling down into it.

_And I heard your voice  
>As clear as day<br>And you told me I  
>Should concentrate...<em>

Suddenly, Rachel was leaning down and lifting Quinn off the floor, and they were dancing now. They spun in circles of oblivion, the scene changing with every flash. They were in the park, they were on the beach, they were under water, they were high in the clouds.

_It was all so strange  
>And so surreal<br>That a ghost should be  
>So practical...<em>

As they soared higher, the clouds became the stars, and they were sailing through constellations. Quinn looked around at the beautiful landscape that stretched out in front of her like eternity, her breath taken from her. Fingers squeezed hers, and she turned to the girl in front of her. God, did she miss her... Quinn reached out to touch her hair, but as she did so Rachel tilted her head back and smiled at her before slowly falling away, her image fading into the blackness.

_**Only if for a night.**_

"No!" Quinn plunged herself forward into the emptiness, her arms and hands desperately searching for something to hold onto. All she felt was space. She took to her feet and began to run as fast they would carry her, her blind eyes searching for anything. Any spark of light, any beam of hope. She wouldn't run away this time.

_And the only solution was to stand and fight..._

In the distance, she could see a flicker of gold. It danced at the very edge of her vision, teasing her, taunting her with its presence.

_My body was bruised, and I was set alight..._

She pushed herself to the breaking point, running faster and harder than her body could handle. The golden light got brighter and brighter, and soon she was completely bathed in its radiance.

_But you came over me, like some holy rite..._

She was facing away from Quinn, but she was no longer fading. She was there, and she was brilliant. She was the only thing that shone in a world of pure black. Quinn stepped up behind her and gently took her hand.

_And although I was burning, you're the only light..._

Strong fingers threaded with hers, and she took the shorter girl in her arms. She pressed her face to the top of her head, and held her tightly. They sank into each other like two beautiful, sinking ships.

_**Only if for a night.**_

* * *

><p>Quinn sat straight up, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Her chest heaved and ached. The fingers of her left hand were curled into the sheets and gripping them tightly, while her right hand... She stared at it in confusion.<p>

Her right hand was reaching out in front of her, as if desperately trying not to let go of... _something_.

Vivid memories of her dream surrounded her, like a thick fog. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, a tear slowly dripping through her fingers.

No more.

She had to see her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Hey folks. Sorry for the long hiatus, I've been really caught up in work lately. For those of you who don't know who I am or what I do, I'm currently in Afghanistan. After a few rough months, I really needed an outlet - so I picked this back up, dusted it off, and decided to have another go. I can't promise that I'll be able to update very often, but I DO promise that I will try! Thanks for the amazing reviews and comments, I truly appreciate each and every one of you. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Rachel blew the smoke out from between her lips as a truck pulled up and parked on the street in front of her home. Rock music blared out from the windows as a horn honked repeatedly and two car doors slammed. She squinted in the darkness and saw a tall, well-built man step into the headlights. She grinned.<p>

"Puck!" She squealed and flicked the cigarette, running down the driveway towards him.

"Jew babe!" He held his arms out and braced for impact as the tiny girl flung herself into his embrace. He picked her up and spun her in a circle, hugging her tightly.

As he set her down, she cleared her throat and straightened herself up, displaying a crooked but well-meaning salute.

"I mean... Sergeant Puck!"

He shook his head, then his face dropped into a scowl and he barked at her.

"You don't salute the enlisted, Private Berry! Knock out twenty!"

She stared at him in shock. "I... I..."

He grinned again and laughed.

"You should see your face right now!"

"Puckerman!" She drew back her tiny fist and socked him in the stomach.

"Oof!" He doubled up as she stuck her nose in the air and stepped around him to greet his taller companion.

"Hello Finn."

"Hello Rachel."

They stared at each other awkwardly before she giggled and broke the tension, holding up her arms for a hug. Puck coughed in the background as Finn bent down and squeezed her gently. She smiled up at him.

"You look good. Besides the small animal that appears to be growing on your face."

Finn crooked a smile and rubbed his beard.

"You don't like it? It makes me look older, cos without it they still card me for beer at the gas station. Though I keep getting sparks in it at the shop... It almost caught on fire once." He stared off in the distance with a foggy look of confusion. Rachel raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Some things never change.

Puck recovered and grabbed Rachel around the waist, hoisting her up onto his shoulder as she squealed.

"Let's get this party started!"

As they made their way up the drive, the front door opened. Brittany and Santana appeared, poking their heads out.

"Should have known it was you, Puckerman! You're only person I know who can wake up an entire neighborhood in seven seconds." Santana called out.

"I'm also the only person you know who can make YOU wake up an entire neighborhood within seven seconds... if you know what I mean!"

She shook her head.

"I don't know what he means..." Brittany whispered to her.

Santana patted the blonde's hand.

"Don't worry about it sweetie, Puck just thinks he's better in bed than you are."

"Oh! Well... that's just ridiculous."

"I know, darling."

When they reached the door, Puck set Rachel back down on her feet and gathered both girls up in a hug. In a rare serious moment, Santana hugged him tightly and looked at him.

"We're glad to see you home safe, Noah."

For a few moments he stared down at her with a look of understanding, then raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. "Like there was any doubt! Puckasouras could take down the taliban singlehandedly if they'd let me do it my way!"

Santana rolled her eyes and pulled him through the door.

Rachel and Finn smiled at each other and shook their heads as they made their way into the house.

Rachel could already hear Puckerman rifling through the refrigerator.

"Hey Rach! Are we driving or cabbing it to this joint?"

She showed Finn where to hang his coat and called out from the living room.

"I was going to drive, since it's only a few blocks away. Why?"

He came out with a shit-eating grin on his face and both of her bottles of Patron, one in each hand.

"Fuck that, let's cab it. We can start this evening off now!"

"Oh, dear."

* * *

><p>Quinn drained her third glass of moscato and set it down on the table. The memory of her dream still coursed through her body like a white-hot fever. The wine seemed to help calm her nerves, but with it she sacrificed a few of her inhibitions and some of her reservations.<p>

She knew she needed to see her again. Rachel's face haunted her at every turn.

Her eyes set with determination, she gathered her coat, flicked off the lights in her apartment, and locked the front door. She made her way out to the street and whistled sharply for a cab.

It was time to either set things right as a new person, or burn the bridge to the ground.

Regardless of which, she had a feeling the flames were going to consume her completely.

* * *

><p>By the time eight thirty rolled around, the celebration had certainly begun in the Berry home. After several shots each, they were all feeling a good buzz. They had spent the past hour reminiscing their times in William McKinley's Glee club, Mr. Schuester, Coach Sylvester, Principal Figgins... any and all memories they could bring back to the surface.<p>

Rachel glanced down at her phone.

"Oh goodness! We need to get going, if we get there too late it'll be at capacity and they won't let us in."

Puck shrugged from where he was sitting on the couch.

"Why are we even going there? We're having just as much fun here as we would be over there! Although... there is more alcohol... And babes. Not that y'all aren't fabulastic, but you're all pretty off limits."

Santana smirked over the rim of her glass in Rachel's direction.

"We're going to the club so that someone can reunite with a certain lover girl and make up for lost time..."

The olive tone of Rachel's face turned a soft shade of pink.

"That's absurd, we're going to the club so that we can celebrate New Year's in a fun atmosphere with some old friends." She stood and whirled around the living room, gathering up their glasses and shooing them to the coat closet. "Now go! We need to leave soon if we're going to meet -"

"Quinn?" Santana piped up from the back.

"-MIKE AND TINA, they're probably already there!" Rachel made her way to the kitchen, flustered. She took several deep breaths and shook her hands. She really wanted to splash some cold water on her face, but she didn't have the time right now to redo her make up. She settled for swallowing the remainder of her drink in one gulp, setting it down on the counter.

She pocketed the cigarettes, just in case.

She locked the door behind her and they made their way several blocks down the street to a busy intersection, where Rachel stuck her fingers between her lips and whistled hard. She raised her hand and several taxis fought their way over to the sidewalk. She smiled and chose the less creepy looking driver, opening the door and gesturing towards it for all of her friends. She piled into the back with Brittany and Santana, while the two boys got into the cab behind theirs. She read off the address to the cabby, and they were off.

Rachel waited until they were in motion before reaching over and batting at Santana's knee.

"What's the matter with you, have you lost your mind?" She hissed softly.

"What's wrong with you, nut case? Smoke away all of your brain cells with those cigarettes?" Santana quipped.

Rachel scowled at her.

"You shouldn't have brought up Quinn in front of Puck, you know she's a sensitive subject for him."

"What if she shows up tonight, Berry? He's going to have to face the music eventually."

"Yes, but I would prefer he didn't have to deal with that and my feelings on top of it right now. AND, you also have no right to bring that up - that was told to you in the strictest of confidence-"

"Well it's not like it's not obvious. You're totally Portia for her Ellen... " Brittany chimed in softly.

Rachel glared at her silently for several seconds before crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat uneasily.

"I'm positive she won't show anyway. No one's spoken to her in years, and God only knows if my letter reached her."

* * *

><p>Quinn was standing in the throng of clubbers at the door, waiting to get in. She could hear the music inside, pounding through the walls and vibrating the ground. It matched her heart beat, and she felt a roiling, nervous sickness twist her insides. Perhaps she should have held off on the wine.<p>

She was seven seconds away from bolting and getting back in a cab to her lonely, silent apartment, when a bouncer gave her the eye and motioned his head towards the door. She raised an eyebrow and he stepped aside as she wove her way to the front, holding open the velvet rope for her to enter. The glares of jealousy from the unlucky masses who still waited made her feel - for a moment - like old Quinn again. Head bitch, special privileges, get out of my way.

It reignited a tiny spark in her that she had felt very rarely in the past few years. She held her head just a notch higher and glided flawlessly through the doors that another set of bouncers opened for her.

Once inside the dark entrance way, she took a second to brace herself for the reality of her situation. Rachel was here, somewhere. Probably Puck, Santana, Brittany, and anyone else Rachel could scrounge up as well. She hadn't seen or heard from any of the above in nearly half a decade, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She showed up purposefully late, because she didn't want to be the first to arrive. She wanted to give herself the opportunity to learn the territory, scout out the atmosphere, and keep an eye on her old friends before deciding whether or not she could handle this tonight.

She reached down to readjust the low-cut, short-sleeved button up shirt she was wearing, and smoothed her damp palms down the sexy, inky black slacks that fitted to her curves like a second skin. With a last deep breath, she stepped out into the flashing lights and throbbing music, making a beeline for the bar. If she was going to make it through this whole night, she was going to - at the very least - treat herself to a little bit of liquid courage.

After fighting her way to the slick, onyx bar top, she leaned forward and showed a little cleavage until two of the male bartenders and one female bartender were rushing to take her drink order. Surprisingly, the female won out.

"What'll it be, sugar?" Her caramel skin and cute dusting of freckles splayed beneath honey eyes made an extremely appealing combination. Quinn raised a brow for the second time that night and had to remind herself that she was here for a reason, and that reason did not include adding another one night stand to her lonely bed post.

"Something sweet and potent. Surprise me."

"You got it baby."

Several minutes and five shots of a milky lavender concoction later, Quinn was _definitely_ feeling loosened up. Perhaps a bit too much. After sliding twice what the shots were worth across the bar to the freckled girl and winking at her, she made her way up the steps to the second floor balcony to people watch. Her eyes flicked across the scene of a crush of dancing people, VIP booths covered in half-empty glasses, laps covered with half-dressed women, and... there.

At a table, to the far left side of the club, she spotted a few familiar faces. Finn... Mike, Tina. They were laughing amongst each other, Finn and Mike nursing a pitcher of beer and Tina pushing around the olives in the bottom of a martini glass. A bright flash of light revealed that Puckerman was also at their table, but he seemed to have found a friend much more entertaining than the Asian twins and the jolly white giant - considering she was straddling his lap and his hands were nowhere to be found. Quinn shook her head. Same old Puck.

After another few minutes of silently surveying the club, she locked eyes on Brittany and Santana completely owning an entire corner of the dance floor. She smiled at this. It was good to know that it was still possible for two people to maintain a committed relationship with each other, even after years of turmoil and drama.

Unfortunately, none of these people were the real reason she came to this club tonight. She frustratingly searched for several minutes more, occasionally glancing back at the table and the dance floor. She exhaled in irritation and turned her back to the crowd, leaning her arms back against the railing and attempting to gather her thoughts.

Should she go down to the table? She frowned. She didn't want to face all of them again at the same time. She didn't know anything about them anymore, and she didn't exactly leave herself open to communication. After six or so months of attempting to contact her with no results, the rest of the group fell away and gave up. So now what? Should she just give in? Call it a night and say "Sorry guys, I made it all the way to the club but didn't feel like saying hello"?

She was about to make for the stairs again when her eyes caught sight of a shimmering wave of silky brown hair seated at the sparsely populated second floor bar. A delicate hand, slowly spinning a tumbler of dark brown liquid; a flash of skin from a black shirt that fell off one shoulder, leaving it exposed and... tempting.

_Rachel._

Courage seized hold of her blood and her body, and her feet carried her with steps so determined, she truly believed she was being hypnotized.

* * *

><p>Disappointment swirled through Rachel like the ice cubes she swirled in the bottom of her nearly empty drink. She told herself she wouldn't allow feelings of hope to rise to the surface, but who the fuck was she kidding? She desperately wanted Quinn to show. She needed the validation, the recognition, the... <em>something<em>. Why was it always SOMETHING about this girl that haunted her at every step?

Always something that made her look for her in the crowd every single time she got on stage. Hoping to catch a glimpse of golden hair, sarcastic smirk. Even if she was rude, horrible, condescending... It was just enough to know that she cared enough to show her face.

Anger and bitterness replaced disappointment quickly, and she threw back the last of her drink before slamming it down on the bar. She made to order another round when suddenly, intensely, a pair of soft hands covered her own, a scorching body pressed against her back, and a husky voice whispered in her ear.

"You come here often, or do you only drink too much on special occasions..?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** I tried to bang out this chapter while I still had some free time, and before I got too wrapped up in other things. That being said, I'm sure there are a few mistakes and I feel like I rushed a good portion of it, so the chances are good that this chapter will get re-written. However! I've been holding off on posting anything for a long time, and I wanted to get the itch out before it went away again. So I'm sorry for mistakes for now, and I hope you can still find it in your hearts to forgive the rushed chapter. =)

Oh, before I forget. The lyrics from the dance scene are from a song called Hardest of Hearts by Florence and the Machine. Check it out!

~An Insomniac

* * *

><p>"<em>Quinn<em>."

The instant fire that spread through her chest hit her like a shotgun blast. Without thinking, she turned a complete 180 on the bar stool, her lips parting carefully, looking up at the taller girl's face.

Quinn didn't move her hands or back away, just stood stoically in place while she surveyed the rash of emotions crossing the visage of the brunette girl. The fact that their faces were several inches apart was not lost on either girl.

"... well?"

"I... I..." Rachel stammered nervously, attempting to find a direction to look that wasn't Quinn's eyes... or her lips.

"Hmm." Quinn slowly stepped back, glancing back at the curious bartender before shifting to the side and perching carefully on the bar stool to Rachel's right.

"Two more of whatever she's having, please."

Rachel spun around again slowly, placing her shaking hands on the table before decidely lowering them in her lap instead.

"So you got my letter." Quinn smirked and accepted the drink from the bartender, taking a sip.

"No, I just happened to be in the same place at the same time on one of the busiest holidays in one of the busiest clubs in New York City."

Rachel rolled her eyes and sipped at her own drink.

"Smart ass."

"Did you forget?"

"Of course not." Rachel turned towards her and gazed at her, her luminous brown eyes catching the club lighting in ways that made Quinn focus on the bar top.

"... how have you been, Quinn?"

The sincerity in her voice stopped another smart ass comment on the tip of her tongue. She shrugged casually and tilted her head to the side.

"Working, a lot. I graduated last year."

"Where do you work now?"

Quinn grimaced. This was already more information than she wanted to reveal right now.

"I'm a criminal profiler for the NYPD."

"No shit?" Quinn lifted an eyebrow and shrugged again, draining half her glass in one gulp.

"... does that -"

"How about you? What have you been doing? Besides starring in revivals of Les Mis and Cinderella?" There. Anything to switch the topic from her life.

Rachel's jaw dropped.

"How... how did you know that?"

Quinn scoffed.

"It's not like you're a hard one to miss, Rachel. Besides... I have cultural tastes too. And a love of music, if you recall. I have to say, if you were nervous opening night no one would have ever known. Though... it's always been a curiousity to me, why your eyes glance around at the crowd during the quiet scenes when everyone is focused on another character."

Rachel nearly choked on her jack and coke.

"Wait... you've... you've been to a show?"

Quinn fiddled with the napkin under her cup, before responding quietly.

"I've been to three or four shows, actually."

Rachel stared at Quinn in shock. This entire time... This _entire time!_

"Why didn't you ever say anything? Why didn't you come by, talk about the show? Let me know you were coming? We could have gone for a drink, coffee, dinner, something! Why did you even go?"

Quinn winced at the onslaught of questions from the fired-up brunette and sighed, finishing off her drink.

"Why did you invite me here?"

The slow look Rachel shot her way was filled with frustration, confusion, and... fear?

"I asked you first." Quinn rolled her eyes and ordered up another drink, eyeing Rachel's glass before gesturing for it to be doubled.

"We're too old for that shit, Rachel."

The exhale that hissed from the shorter girl's lips was both endearing and irritating. Quinn sighed.

"Why don't we just talk about something easier right now? Like how's the family? How's Kurt? How's sch-"

"Why did you show up?"

Several moments of palpable silence passed between them as panic rose in Quinn's chest, her eyes darting around the bar top as if she would find the right words on the slick surface, words that would explain away her raging feelings as nothing more than a casual curiousity and desire to catch up with old friends.

Moments that were apparently too much for the small bit of patience Rachel had left to give. She grabbed Quinn by the arm and spun her, looking into her green eyes with a determination that sent shivers down the blonde's spine.

"If we're going to keep dancing around these topics without giving up any answers, then what's the point? You finally show your face after five _years _and can offer me nothing more than questions, fired back to avoid responding to mine? That's _bullshit_, Quinn Fabray, and you know it. You know exactly what happened between us all that time ago, yet you refuse to put yourself out there and admit to it because you're scared. So was I. I get it. But it's been too damn long. You've been on my mind for _too damn long_. And now we're finally here, and I need something more than how's the family. So when you're ready to talk, I'll be downstairs."

Quinn stared at the brunette, watched her with carefully guarded eyes as she glided away, her thick hair flowing behind her gracefully as she made her way down the stairs and into the crush of people. Her daring ultimatum was left hanging in the air, thick with promise, full of tension, and full of feelings she'd been tampering down with a strong resolve that she spent years building. And now, after all this time, two drinks and a few burning looks were enough to split that same resolve with a crack that shook her whole world.

... shit.

* * *

><p>The evenly placed melody swirled around Rachel. She was swimming in a sea of smoke and flashing lights. She didn't recognize anyone, and with the alcohol burning through her veins she didn't care. She just needed to get away from the volatile game of dance-around-the-subject that Quinn wanted to play. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes, swaying slowly to the rhythm.<p>

She barely registered the press of people around her, surrounded by the fuzzy, lingering feeling that she was dancing alone when the single person walking this earth that she wanted beside her stood twenty feet above her like a tortured angel. Maybe she should have given her a chance. Maybe she should have played her game for a little longer. She braved a glance up at the balcony in the direction she left Quinn, and furrowed her brow when she saw no one. No messy golden hair, no glowing green eyes, no porcelain skin.

But then...

She sensed her before she saw her. The tiny hairs on her neck stood on end, prickling with anticipation. The weaving scent of vanilla traced its way around her body, and when slender fingers grasped her hips from behind, she leaned back against the tall frame and felt warm breath on her neck.

Quinn pressed herself against the brunette, resting her forehead against her head. Her nose found a careful place to hide behind Rachel's ear, her lips unintentionally but not unwantingly pressed against the back of her neck. She felt like she was going to set fire to the club, with the way this girl felt against her.

_There is love in your body but you can't hold it in  
>It pours from your eyes, and it spills from your skin<em>

Unable to resist, she drew carefully on the skin her lips were pressed against. Rachel moaned softly and she reached behind her, tangling her fingers in Quinn's hair and rocking her ass back against her hips, rolling into her slowly.

_Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks  
>And the kindest of kisses<br>Break the hardest of hearts_

The bass from the music pounded in her chest, and Rachel's heart went haywire. Surely the blonde was trying to kill her with a heart attack before the night was over. She turned into the embrace, pressing her hand to the small of Quinn's back. She melded their hips together and leaned her torso back, using Quinn as an anchor.

_There is love in your body but you can't get it out  
>It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth<em>

She slipped one of her legs around Quinn's upper thigh, hooking it behind her knee. She allowed her hand to slide under the hem of Quinn's shirt, and dragged her nails slowly along the skin there while sinking her body into the music.

_Sticks to your tongue, and it shows on your face  
>That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste<em>

The gasp that escaped between Quinn's lips was audible. Her hands grabbed the brunette's waist, her fingertips digging gently into her hipbones. She guided Rachel where she wanted her to go, and a second moan slipped from between her lips. She dropped her head to her shoulder and bit her lip, fighting for control.

_Darling heart  
>I loved you from the start<br>But you'll never know what a fool I've been..._

Rachel grabbed the front of Quinn's shirt, rolling her torso against the blonde's with more desire and passion than she'd ever seen come out of her own body before. A slick sheen of sweat covered her skin, and her blood felt like a furnace. It was as if every nerve in her body shot to the surface and lay bare, electrifying her with every tiny touch.

_Darling heart  
>I loved you from the start<br>But that's no excuse for the state I'm in_

She needed answers. She needed love, she needed acceptance. But right now... she need this. This exquisite ecstasy, this beautiful piece of ragged temptation that coursed through her entire body like a pulsing vein. Rachel slid her hand up Quinn's neck, threading her fingers in her hair and pressing her face to the taller girl's jawline, whimpering softly.

"Why are you here..."

_There is love in our bodies and it holds us together  
>But pulls us apart when we're holding each other<em>

Quinn wrapped her arms around the small girl tightly, their hips never ceasing the dancing grind that kept her mind in a foggy haze. She pressed her face into the soft brown hair, her mouth moving and the words forming before she could lock them down tightly, as she had always done in the past.

"Because it's always been you, Rach."

_We all want something to hold in the night  
>We don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight...<em>

An inexplicable fear rocketed through Rachel like a wrecking ball, shattering the dark crystal they were encased in. With a strangled cry, she tore away from Quinn, away from the crowd, and ran. She ran from the floor, ran from the room, ran from the club. She ran down the hall next to the bathrooms and flung herself out of the back entrance to the building, ignoring the strange looks she got from back alley loiterers as she took in huge, sucking lungfuls of air. The world was spinning in directions it should never go, and she leaned against the wall to steady herself.

A small sob escaped from her lips, and she brought a hand to her mouth to trap it in again, wishing she could make sense of the emotions blasting her from every direction. How? How could this be?

She expected awkwardness, anger. Outrage. She mostly expected her to not even show up. But she stormed back into Rachel's life like a cannon blast and finally offered up an honest answer, and the only person she had to blame was herself. She invited her here, she opened the door back up again. So how can she be out here, blaming her for giving her the exact thing she'd been looking for?

The alcohol was taking hold of her, and she leaned more heavily on the wall. The cold air was blowing across her skin, and she wrapped her arms around herself to quell the shiver that ran her through. Dark shadows slowly moved down the wall next to her, and she realized how open and exposed she was out here in this dark alley, and how stupid it was of her to come out here alone.

A few of the loiterers were casually approaching her, reeking of alcohol and creeper.

"Hey... you alright?" One called out, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Yes, I'm fine thank you." She tightened her arms around herself again and started back for the door to the club.

"Are you sure? Because you look a little sick. Maybe you should stay out in the fresh air for a while." The creeper stood next to the door while his friends stood next to him, blocking the rest of the alley way. Her chest began to tighten, and she slowly took another step towards the door, calculating in her mind if she had enough time to open it and scream for help.

"No really, I'll be alright. I just need to get back in to my friends."

He took a slow step towards her, within arm's reach now, and fear struck her hard as he glanced back at his friends with a smirk on his face, laughing quietly.

"I'd really like to go inside now, please, so if you'd step aside-"

"You should really be more careful about how much you drink, you know. Some women tend to black out and not remember things when they wake up in the morning."

Without warning, the door slammed open. He jumped at the sound, turning towards it. His face dropped from cocky to scared in a matter of seconds when a tall blonde girl stepped from the doorway holding a 9mm and a gold badge in his face.

"And you should _definitely_ not be loitering on private property. So how about you get the fuck out of here, before I decide you're worth the paperwork."

He held his hands up and backed off quickly.

"Shit, my bad. Is this private property? I think I'm lost." He took off down the alley at a brisk pace with his friends close behind him.

Quinn carefully and quickly tucked the weapon and badge back into her purse, taking long and swift strides towards the shaking girl. She held her hand out and touched her arm gently.

"Rach..?"

She buried herself in Quinn's arms, pressing her face into the material of her shirt and holding it tightly in her hands. Quinn wrapped her arms protectively around the smaller girl, pressing her face into her hair and drawing her closer to pull the sides of her coat around her shivering form.

"Sshh... it's okay. I promise, it's okay now. I'm right here."

And she _was_ there. This wasn't a dream. She was phsyical, she was was real. She had an amazing scent, strong arms, soft hair. She was... Quinn.

Rachel stood there, shaking and sobbing her eyes out, wondering how the hell this night had gone from mere drunken disappointment to earth-shattering revelation so very quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

Rachel splashed cold water on her face in the dim club bathroom. She grimaced at her eyeliner-streaked face in the mirror and reached into her purse for a make up removing cloth, which she ran carefully under her eyes.

"Yeah, this is going to be real easy to explain to your friends Rachel." she muttered to herself under her breath.

She gripped the sides of the sink and leaned her head forward, sighing softly and closing her eyes.

What the hell was she supposed to do now? She was so sure that Quinn would never show, and she had - irritatingly, now that she thought of it - failed to formulate a plan if she defied expectations and graced them with her presence.

She should have known better, really. Since when has Quinn ever practiced the norm? She had consistently taken her by surprise the entire time they had known each other. It shouldn't be any different now, even considering the silent span of time between their last contact and this one.

In only a short few hours, Quinn had come back into her life as if she'd never left it, and the questions on her tongue kept piling up and slamming around her mind like a pin ball machine.

Why had she never contacted her? They lived within miles of each other, but Quinn never once tried to reach out and take the first step. What HAPPENED the night before they left for school? And why? What had she been doing all of these years? How often did she go home? Did she ever see Beth?

... Why does she have a GUN?

Rachel groaned and swiped her fingers through her hair, checking her face one last time before turning for the door.

* * *

><p>Quinn paced an anxious line in the hall, shooting glares at anyone that came close enough to the bathroom door to be considered a threat. After the fourth nasty comment she received from people stalking away, she exhaled softly and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom.<p>

'You're getting caught up, Quinn.' She thought to herself, shaking her head.

Her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor and she mentally admonished herself. This had been like a crazy dream, flashing past her in snap shots and mini movies.

For a moment she smiled to herself like an idiot, amused by the thought that she could only seem to open up to Rachel when she'd been drinking. Her therapist was going to _love_ this.

The door opened and shut again quietly, and she looked up. Suddenly, the four feet of gap between them as they stood on opposite sides of the hallway seemed like an insurmountable canyon. Rachel bit her lip and traced her eyes along the wall paper pattern behind Quinn, before finally looking up and catching her eye.

"I'm sorry, Quinn."

Her apology startled the blonde, and she furrowed her brow with her lips parted in confusion.

"Why are you -"

"Wait. Let me finish." Rachel shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other before settling on leaning back against the wall, mirroring Quinn.

"You're right. I invited you here. I asked you to come out tonight. I don't think either of us had any idea what we were getting into, or even how to handle each other after all of this time. It's been too long, and I guess I had some inconceivable notion that everything would click and we would both be on the same page, and all of my questions would be answered in some instantaneous revelation of information that would pass between us mentally, but you're here and I'm here and somehow I feel like I have even LESS information than I did before and... and... I don't know." Her eyes drifted back to the wall paper pattern and she sighed.

Quinn smiled to herself. She'd forgotten how cute Rachel was when she rambled awkwardly.

... well. She'd never forgotten. She just missed it.

"I understand." She replied softly. Rachel looked up into her eyes once more.

Quinn exhaled slowly, then shoved away from the wall and carefully narrowed the space between them. Rachel couldn't help the way her eyes slowly took in the sway of Quinn's hips, and the gentle pout of her lower lip.

The glance didn't do unnoticed. Quinn took a moment to hide her smirk and gather her thoughts.

"We're both going to need time. This is... insane, by all counts. We don't know a thing about each other anymore, and way too much has changed between us in the past few years. But if you're... willing... we could go have coffee some time. And maybe catch up a little bit."

Rachel's heart jumped into her throat, and she swallowed hard while nodding slowly, trying desperately not to make it seem like it was something she wanted more than almost anything else.

"... but you have to stop looking at me like that." Quinn leaned forward and whispered softly in Rachel's ear, allowing just the tiniest hints of a smile to show through.

Rachel's cheeks blazed red and she immediately moved away from the wall, opening and closing her mouth like an idiot before clapping it shut again and glaring at the blonde sideways.

"I... uh... don't know what you're talking about."

This garnered a legitimate laugh from Quinn, who shook her head.

They looked at each other for a long moment, the mood abruptly shifting back to quiet and reminiscent. It was Rachel who finally broke the silence.

"I should probably get back... they're going to be - "

"-wondering where you went." Quinn finished for her. Rachel nodded.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to."

Quinn inhaled deeply, before squaring her shoulders. Her mask slipped on almost imperceptibly, and Rachel felt a tug in her chest at the sight of it.

"I have a few more reasons for coming tonight other than you. They... I cut them out of my life too."

"I know."

They shared another tenuous look, green eyes reflecting armor, brown eyes... understanding.

"Let's go, then."

* * *

><p>Quinn could feel her heart pounding in her chest for the hundredth time that night as they approached the table slowly. She could almost sense that Rachel was moving at nearly half speed, as if to give the taller girl time to gather and steel herself.<p>

She appreciated it.

She hung back as Rachel stepped into the circle of friends. Brittany and Santana had since vacated their space on the dance floor, both covered in sweat and laughter, giggling about a shared joke. Mike and Tina were simply enjoying each others presence, sitting close and whispering to each other. Puck's thinly-clad friend had disappeared, but he was too busy attempting to persuade Finn to chug the rest of the beer pitcher to notice.

Rachel cleared her throat softly, then louder when no one glanced up. They all looked at her in confusion, and she side-stepped out of Quinn's line of sight.

"Hey..." The blonde gave a pathetic wave, then froze in place as six pairs of eyes all locked onto her.

It was the longest minute of silence she'd ever experienced in her life, until a blonde arrow hurtled at her from around the table and trapped her in an embrace that felt as if she was being crushed into pieces.

"OHMYGODQUINN HIIIIII!" Brittany shrieked as Quinn gasped for air. Her arms were pinned down to her sides, so her attempt at returning the hug looked like a T-Rex impression.

The sounds of chairs being scooted across the floor overwhelmed her, and she was suddenly surrounded on all sides. When they managed to pry her from Brittany's grasp, Tina and Mike hugged her simultaneously. Finn staggered up to bat when they let go, and his huge form nearly demolished her as he half-hugged, half-leaned on her and told her repeatedly how hot she looked.

Santana and Puck both stood on the edge of the melee, varying emotions crossing their faces. They glanced at each other, and it was Santana who took the first step forward. She lingered in front of Quinn, her eyes full of sadness, but yet... forgiveness. She slowly wound her arms around Quinn's neck and pressed their cheeks together, and she wrapped her arms around her tightly.

"I missed you, Fabray." It was a simple sentence, loaded with the promise of a heavy discussion.

"I missed you too. And I'm sorry."

Santana kissed her cheek, then pulled away and pinched the back of her arm.

"Ow!"

"That's what you get, Houdini." Quinn rubbed the sore spot while the smirking Latina made her way back to the arms of her lady.

Everyone, even Quinn, turned to look at Puck. He had eyes only for Quinn. His face read an indescribable pain, and it filled her eyes nearly to the brim with tears. This time, it was her that made the first move.

She stepped within a few inches of him, her head tilted back and looking up into his eyes. A silent understanding seemed to move through the group like a wave, and they drifted back to the table and their drinks.

A single tear tracked its way down Quinn's cheek, and Puck watched it fall before gently wiping it from her chin.

"Puck, I-"

"Don't." She bit her lip and turned her gaze away for fear of more condemning tears.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, and she buried her face in his shoulder, gripping the material of his shirt where it was loose at his collar.

His tone was softer than she expected, his voice a deep timbre that moved her.

"You have a lot to answer for, Q."

"I know, Puck. We both do." He set her down gently and looked into her face again, carefully wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself.

"How long are you here for? Do you have to go back..?" He shook his head.

"I'm out. Got home a couple of weeks ago."

"Have you seen..."

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"How..."

"She's beautiful." He finished for her, before adding: "She looks just like you."

Quinn's eyebrows shot up and he grinned.

"With my impeccable skin tone, of course." She rolled her eyes and socked him in the stomach.

"Oof! Jesus, what's with you women tonight? And I thought infantry guys were violent."

Her biting comment was on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly the music got much quieter and the deejay much louder.

"Alright people! It's almost time to start the count down! Who here is ready for the New Year?!"

Screams erupted from the party-goers, and for a moment Quinn had completely forgotten the whole purpose of this reunion. Puck gently pushed her towards the table, where he lined up a row of shot glasses and filled each to the brim with one sweeping motion of a clear bottle of vodka.

He began to pass them around the circle of friends, reaching over to hand one to Quinn. She shook her head.

"You guys go ahead, I don't want to take someone's shot from them." Rachel suddenly appeared at her side.

"She can have mine!" She appeared to have had a few more of her own since coming back to the table, because the flush in her cheeks was a little more prominent than it was before.

"No, really. It's okay, you guys all came here together. I wouldn't want to-"

"Shut up and take the shot Fabray!" Santana suddenly interrupted. "We got eight shot glasses."

Rachel and Quinn looked around the table in confusion.

"How did you know..."

Lights began flashing and a giant image of the ball resting high atop Times Square projected onto the wall above the deejay on the stage.

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

Puck's new friend made a sudden reappearance, throwing herself into his arms and attaching her face to his without even waiting for the countdown to stop. Finn was cradling his beer bottle to his face and smiling like a drunken fool, counting a half-step slower than the rest of the crowd.

"SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!"

Brittany and Santana were having a rare moment of silence when the rest of the world was being loud, standing with their foreheads pressed together and their free arm wrapped around each other. Tina was leaning back against Mike, both watching the ball drop with content smiles on their faces.

"FOUR! THREE! TWO!"

Quinn turned to the small brunette standing next to her, and it seemed as if time came to a halt. Her face was bathed in the sparkling light from the screen, and she stared the blonde down as if she was designed only to look into her eyes.

Rachel looked up at Quinn and felt a strong swelling in her heart. It surged and felt as if her chest would explode from the feeling. The look in her eyes... it was a silent promise of change, a quiet strength, a desperate and hidden pain. She knew in her soul she could spend a very long time living in this exact second.

"ONE!"

The screams and the music went up while the shot went down quickly and smoothly, and Quinn was focused on finding a place to set down the shot glass when she felt gentle hands grasping the front of her shirt. The brunette reached up onto her tip-toes and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek, and the lighting from the fireworks seemed to be coming from behind her eyes.

"Happy New Year, Quinn."

Her lips parted and she stared down at Rachel, this woman who had never failed to wrench her broken heart from her chest and resuscitate it with a single look.

Quinn watched as Rachel quirked an eyebrow and lifted her own shot to her lips, tipping it back while shining from the exploding glow of the screen. She felt it down in her heart... this girl was either going to break her, or take her to places she'd only ever dreamed of. And at this point, Quinn didn't think she gave a damn either way.

_Cos baby you're a firework..._


End file.
